


Family Matters

by spinner33



Series: CM - Close to Canon [49]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Dinner with the In-Laws, Dinosaur Field Study, Domestic Squabbling, M/M, Poking Fun At Super-Religious People, Reid Ponders Parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 08:14:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5409605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinner33/pseuds/spinner33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reid meets Haley's parents.  Hotch and Reid fight about what happened at the lunch with Strauss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is AU, and was written long before Haley's dad made an appearance on the show in season 10.

“Papa?” Jack asked. He had been staring up at the dinosaur skeleton for almost ten minutes, hardly making a sound at all. 

“Mm hmm?” Reid hummed. Jack moved closer to him, standing against his side. 

“Why are his arms so short?” Jack whispered. 

Hotch’s son quickly glanced around at the other children assembled near the display, worried what they might think about his question. The Natural History Museum was noisy, crowded, smelly, and hot. It was the last place on Earth Reid wanted to be standing today, and yet, the very first place as well. Being here with Jack took Reid’s mind off his ‘lunch’ with Strauss. Hotch was at home, spending yet another Saturday with his head buried in case files. When Jack had asked about seeing a T-Rex in person, Reid had jumped at the chance to bring him here. 

Jack moved closer to Reid as Spencer gazed up at the dinosaur model. Reid was attempting to look at the towering monster and see it as Jack was seeing it. He didn’t feel particularly successful in that endeavor. What a glorious fantasy, the hope of returning to the simplicity of childhood! It was an unachievable dream. Reid hadn’t had a normal childhood, had he? He hadn’t had a normal life in general. Had he ever gone through a stage that might classified as simple and uncomplicated? 

“If that skeleton is real, the T-Rex’s arms are too short for his body, aren’t they?” Jack persisted.

Reid and Jack were being jostled by the people coming around the sideways, oblong display. The layout of the first floor of the exhibit channeled museum visitors through a thin bottleneck right in front of the T-Rex. Whoever designed this layout was an idiot with no concept of crowd flow. In order to see the rest of the dinosaurs, which were displayed around the rectangular area with an island in the middle, visitors needed to push around the line of people who would be examining the T-Rex model. The T-Rex was easily the most popular display, so there was always a large group around it. Even if visitors made it past the crowd around the T-Rex, they were then channeled through the back of the dinosaur exhibit into a historical overview, a set of 'lifelike' displays which were a frightful, crowded maze of odd-shaped rooms filled with cast models of ancient skeletons next to stuffed and mounted examples of modern animals with similar characteristics to the ancient ones. Today, the museum was packed to the brim with milling, pushing people. 

The over-crowding by the dinosaur exhibit was further exacerbated by the fact that many parents insisted on bringing double-wide strollers (some almost as big as golf carts, or so it seemed) through the narrow spaces. Reid did not begrudge those who needed a stroller for their child. But most were using the conveyances to push obstacles out of their paths. What truly annoyed Reid was that many strollers did not contain children at all, but were heaped with an accumulation of shopping bags, purses, and other useless clutter. More often than not, one parent pushed the heavily-laden stroller through the crowd while the other parent carried the child in question. Beyond that were the parents pushing older children in the strollers, children who were more than capable of walking, children six and seven years old. Reid actually saw one petite mother struggling to push a child who had to be at least ten! His first thought was that perhaps the boy might be disabled, but he did not see or hear any indications, and he was stuck behind them for some time. Was it a means by which to control the boy and keep him from running around wild? Reid wasn’t sure. He shook his head and returned his attention to Jack’s question as he pulled his long feet out from under the latest set of wheels to have run over them. Reid shot the brain-dead parent a piercing stare, but the man walked on by without even the smallest apology, purposefully keeping his head turned the other way. 

“To begin with, this particular Tyrannosaurus Rex specimen is female,” Reid corrected carefully, wanting Jack to understand that he was in no way making light of his serious question. 

“How do you know?” Jack asked. 

“As with human females. Dinosaur females have a larger opening. In the floor of their pelvis. The opening is there to accommodate the bladder, the rectum, and the birth canal. Where the child, or in this case, the eggs will pass through. You would need to have a considerable amount of room. To be able to pass them. Even taking into account. That the pelvic bones in human females. Will soften and separate. During the birthing process,” Reid explained. 

Jack carefully studied the model, his eyes following the places that Reid was pointing. The man standing nearest to Reid, a husband with two boys, was gaping in horror at what Reid had said to Jack. Did he disapprove of what Reid had said? Had Spencer said anything inappropriate? Reid ran over the words in his mind, and could not understand the astonished glance it had earned him, nor why it would make the man hurry to snatch up his boys and move so quickly along. 

“Well, why are her arms so short? Did the scientists put her back together wrong?” Jack asked. 

“No. These are the correct arms. Paleontologists have long pondered your very question. No one has a satisfactory explanation. They bicker among themselves. As to why the T-Rex’s arms appear to be stunted. Some say that the arms are too short. To grasp and hold prey, and therefore the T-Rex would have been. An ineffective hunter. But others feel that because of the incredible strength. In the forearm muscles. That the T-Rex would have been able to hold prey. The stunted arms would seem to be a terrible design flaw, don’t you agree?” Reid asked. 

“They look like chicken wings. How would you survive with arms that short?” 

“As for you or I, not very well. But the T-Rex did manage,” Reid smiled. 

Spencer tucked his elbows and arms close to his body, to the point where his arms appeared to jut out of his ribs instead of his shoulders. He moved his shortened arms around, leaning over to rub the top of Jack's head with three hooked fingers. Little Hotch’s grin broadened. An unfamiliar boy standing next to them rolled his eyes. Reid felt suddenly very self-conscious. He dropped his arms back into place. 

“Their arms are short because God made them that way,” the boy blurted in a very patronizing tone that Jack did not like at all. Jack turned to the intruder and stared as if he had two heads. Spencer could almost see his hair bristle up the way Hotch's hair seemed to do when he was annoyed. Reid was going to ignore the other child, but Jack had different ideas.

“Don't be stupid. God didn’t make the dinosaurs,” Jack frowned back. 

“Yes, He did. God made everything,” the boy insisted fervently. 

“God isn’t real, you know?” Jack replied, sounding so much like Hotch. 

“God is too real! And he did make the dinosaurs!” the other boy insisted angrily. 

“Mind your own business. We weren’t talking to you,” Jack frowned. 

"Jack," Reid hushed him tenderly. "Don't be rude." 

The boy gasped and hurried away, tugging on the shirt hem of a nearby woman, who gasped as well when the boy relayed to her what Jack had said. She glared at Reid, touched a trembling hand to her heart, drawing attention to the church-school bible camp shirt she was wearing. How had Reid not noticed before? He and Jack were standing in a veritable sea of those blue shirts. Glancing around, he noted there were several other children and parents with that shirt. 

Aw, crap. The husband with the two small sons, the one who had sprinted away from the T-Rex while Reid was talking about pelvic bones and birthing canals, was also wearing one of those shirts. He was now explaining to the disgruntled mother what Reid had been saying about the T-Rex. The mother's face blew up wide with shock and horror. She snatched up the whistle that she was wearing on a cord around her neck, and gave a shrill peep. Most of the visitors turned and gave her scathing, dirty look, but her blue-clad charges dutifully lined up on command, parents and children alike. She marched them on to the next phase of the exhibit, casting horrified stares back at Reid, as if he were the Devil Incarnate. 

“It’s rude to butt into other people’s conversations,” Jack called out loudly, knowing they could still hear him. Reid shushed him gently, fighting a smile. There had never been any doubt in his mind that Jack was Hotch's son, but moments like this only served to reinforce that truth.

“Yes, it is rude,” Reid agreed, “but perhaps we should keep our voices down, so we don’t disturb anyone else.” 

"He started it," Jack pouted. 

"I know, I know," Reid soothed as he nodded gravely. He decided that Mouse would have probably been a lot more vocal than Jack had been in voicing displeasure. Jack motioned for the tall man to bend down to his height so they could speak more privately. 

“Did they put the wrong arms on the skeleton?” Jack whispered in Reid’s ear.

“No. I promise. These are the correct limbs,” Reid replied. "The arms could be vestigial." 

"What does that mean?" 

"The same way your coccyx bone is a vestigial tail. Though not entirely unused, as it does help with balance and support."

"Where's that?" 

"At the very bottom tip of your spine, curled under into your pelvic region. When you sit down, you are balanced on it. It is like the third leg of a tripod," Reid explained. "It is even called the 'tail bone'. It means that at one point in our evolution as a species, humans had tails."

"That's so cool!" Jack exclaimed excitedly. "Why don't we have tails any more though?" he deflated sadly. 

"The coccyx shrank as we evolved, and no longer used our tails. Perhaps as we moved towards walking upright?" 

"Use it or lose it?" 

"Yes," Reid smiled. 

"My gym teacher says that all the time," Jack moaned, shaking his head. "So it's true?" 

"It's true." 

"Mrs. T-Rex? Those really are her arms? They might have gotten her bones mixed up with someone else’s bones? She can’t even scratch her nose,” Jack whispered quietly. 

“It would be extremely difficult,” Reid agreed. 

“How would she scratch her back?” Jack wondered. 

Reid straightened up at the new question. His eyes roamed the museum room, and lit up brightly. Spencer limped through the bottleneck with Jack in tow, dodging another stroller filled with shopping bags, and an angry woman carrying a sobbing toddler. Reid sighed to himself. What was an eighteen-month old child going to gather from being dragged through this crowded, dreary space? 

Another thing bothering Reid was the fact that there weren't hardly any young girls in museum. There were mothers and grandmothers. But while pushing through the crowd, it didn’t take long to notice that the female children were few and far between. Sure, Reid spotted one or two, but they were older teens, young women who could haven driven themselves here, young women who more than likely had already decided what they wanted to do with their futures. The idea of young girls not visiting here bothered Reid, because he was the father of such a girl, and also because it was damned short-sighted to deny or discourage approximately half the population a chance to learn about archeology and history and evolution. Think of all the advances in science which had been stifled because girls were not encouraged to become scientists! Damned short sighted indeed. 

Reid stopped when the thought hit him. Was that it? Was that why Mouse had quit hockey and suddenly taken up babysitting? Had she reached the age where the desire to fit in socially had overridden her own interests? Had she begun to conform to peer pressure already? She wasn't even a teenager yet. Was she going to start doing only ‘girly’ things in order to be seen as an acceptable female mate? Oh hell no! Reid promised himself that when Mouse was back in DC, he was going to walk her proudly and repeatedly through every scientific museum and site she was remotely interested in, starting with a longish trip through the National Arboretum, which had been one of her favorite haunts when she had lived here. 

When Reid reached the brown-beige side wall which should have led to the staircase to the second floor of the display, he stopped and pulled Jack flat to the wall with himself. Reid pulled his arms back to his sides and mimicked a T-Rex's awkward limbs while swishing his spine across the wall. Jack giggled and imitated Reid’s actions. 

“She could rub her back on trees, or rock surfaces, in order to scratch her itches,” Reid explained. “Or perhaps she might ask a friend,” he added, rubbing his fingertips quickly between Jack’s shoulder blades. The boy laughed even more enthusiastically. 

“How did she pick up her food with arms that short?” Jack wanted to know. 

Reid maneuvered carefully downward and sideways, nibbling at Jack’s nearest shoulder. Jack squealed and dodged away. Several adults turned and shushed him. Reid moved in front of Jack to shield him from their unpleasant gazes. People were gaping at them. Jack was grinning broadly though. Reid replied a long, thin smile. 

“She could grasp prey. But she also would bend and reach with her upper body. Neck, shoulders, mouth. Like birds do when you toss seeds or breadcrumbs on the ground in front of them. They don’t have hands like you and I do. Their phalanges, their finger bones, have been incorporated into the very tips of their wings, a transformation that took many millions of years. There are many similarities between birds and dinosaurs. You do not need hands to tear and rip and bite smaller prey, not when you have a mouth full of rows of razor-sharp, meat-eater teeth,” Reid explained. 

“How did she scratch her butt?” Jack wanted to know. He worried that Reid had been offended by the question. Reid shortened his arms again, and tested their length to find the answer. The very best he could manage to reach was the middle of one thigh. Jack tried as well, with similar results. Reid wavered and nearly fell over. His cane dropped, clattering loudly on the marble floor. He winced, and bent to retrieve it. 

More adults and many children had turned to stare at the disruptive duo. The sea of disapproving faces was growing more ominous by the second. Both Jack and Reid stopped clowning around. They cautiously withdrew towards the bottleneck again. Reid had wanted to go upstairs, but the second floor to the display was closed for renovations. He stared longingly at the fossilized pterodactyl skeleton slab displayed on the wall, and the full-fleshed model that was suspended nearby. He had desperately wanted to get a closer look at that! Alas, he and Jack would have to view that part of the exhibit some other time, he decided, when it wasn’t so crowded and utterly dismal. He hated standing around in here with all these people and their cumbersome prejudices. Nothing like a day out in the public eye to remind you why you loathe being around people. 

“Perhaps it might be prudent to retreat. To a less restrictive and uptight environment,” Reid suggested to Jack, as he wondered if he was becoming agoraphobic, to match being mysophobic. Perhaps this extended stay at home because of medical leave was going to turn him onto several other phobias. He’d be a perfect delight to be around then, wouldn’t he?! 

“Yeah,” Little Hotch agreed. “Assholes.”

“Watch your language,” Reid scolded softly, making a mental note to remind Hotch to stop cursing in front of their son. Again. To soften the scold, Reid petted the top of Jack’s hair, where his cowlick had popped straight up. 

“Sorry,” Jack winced, picking up Reid’s arm to sling it over one shoulder. He slid his fingers into Reid’s fingers. Reid shifted his cane to his other hand and his satchel to his other shoulder, and held tight to Jack. There were few things in the world which made his heart glow more deeply than those small fingers intertwined with his own. He was sure the joy showed on his face too. People did turn and stare. 

This parenting thing – Reid was beginning to understand the appeal. The cynical, scientific part of his brain told him he was merely falling into the same trap that most parents fell into – the emotional, co-dependent bond between a parent and a child. Children need you, and you need children to need you. That was essential to the continuation of the species. They seem to need you more each day, and the more they need you, the more desperately you want to feel needed. It was a never-ending cycle. He could see where it could easily spiral out of control if you didn’t set some ground rules though. 

It was mind-boggling, really. Under any other circumstance, if you were being followed around by a miniature creature who demanded food, drink, amusement, protection, shelter, education… any number of necessities….. and you were obligated to provide this no matter your emotional, intellectual or monetary means, it might make you pretty inhospitable indeed to be so put upon. But given the fact the tiny creatures resembled you or a beloved mate or family member, and that they acted like you, and this imitation appealed to the innate narcissism that all people had, these factors changed the game entirely. Once they had you hooked, you looked forward to taking care of them. It soon became your every waking thought. You wanted to make them utterly content with your company no matter what. Reid knew already that this applied to Goody, but it applied even more so to Jack and Mouse! It didn't matter that Jack wasn't his own child, as it would not matter with any parents with adopted children who bore no resemblance whatsoever. The emotional tie was what sealed the deal. The more time Reid spent with Jack, the more he wanted to protect, to nurture, to teach, and to provide for him. The reverse was true too. It was becoming more and more difficult, knowing Mouse was pouting and suffering on the other side of the country, because Reid was helpless from this distance to be able to do anything about her misery. It was crushing that she wouldn't open up to him and talk, to know that he had been ineffective in helping her. He could only hope that Korsakova had had better luck. 

These contemplations made Reid think about his mother, how much he missed her, how much he needed her even yet. It stung that Diana Reid was falling deeper and deeper into her own world away from her son. It was true that the further away she pulled, the closer Reid clung to Hotch and Jack both. But Reid desperately wanted to talk to Diana about parenting. He wanted her advice, such as it might be. What did people whose parents were gone do when they were at their wits’ end? Who did they turn to? Most of the people that Reid knew didn't have children, or if they did.... well, he found he disagreed about the propriety and success of their parenting techniques. For example, Reid had not even considered asking his father William for parenting advice. No one would ask for parenting advice from someone they considered to be a rotten parent! 

Jack froze in place as they were crossing the crowded foyer of the Natural History Museum. His eyes widened, and he darted around to stare back beyond Reid’s side. Spencer turned to see what had caught Jack’s attention, and was almost bisected by another damned stroller. A husband and wife flew past him, four children in tow and one child in arms. The father was muttering about slow-ass people stopping right in the middle of the goddamned exit lane, and the mother whisked by looking sheepish and apologetic. 

“What is it?” Reid asked, righting himself with some difficulty.

“Nothing,” Jack answered unsurely. 

“Was it Miles?” Reid asked. 

“No,” Jack replied, frowning. “I thought I saw Granny Annie.” 

“Oh,” Reid whispered, fear tingling on his spine at the mention of Haley’s parents. “Perhaps you saw someone who looked like her. There are many grandparents with grandchildren here today.”

“Maybe,” Jack agreed skeptically. 

“Didn't Aunt Jessica say your grandparents were in Arizona?”

“They were there last week, but she said yesterday that they might come through soon for a weekend visit. Maybe even this weekend. Didn’t Daddy tell you what Aunt Jessica said?” 

“No,” Reid shook his head. Jack held tighter to Spencer’s hand, watching his face.

“If we go to Florida over Spring Break, can you come with us? If you’re not working then?” Jack pleaded. 

“Jack, I…..I think your grandparents might prefer. To have you all to themselves. They don’t get much of a chance. To see you. To spend time with you. I would not want to intrude. On the time they do have with you. They love you very much. They want to spend time with you. Not with me.”

“Don’t you like Florida?” 

“I like Florida,” Reid beamed enthusiastically. “There are many interesting and educational national parks. Historical sites to visit. Interesting wildlife to observe. The Florida Keys house a veritable bonanza of wildlife. Did you know that the Key Deer stands. Around thirty inches high? It has adapted to the low trees and scrubby underbrush of their habitat. An excellent example of how evolution shapes a species,” Spencer babbled happily as he motioned to the correct height that the deer in question might stand. Jack was amazed that they would be so short. “I’d love to take you to the Merritt Island Sanctuary too. Cormorants, pelicans, scarlet ibis, vultures. Too many other birds to mention. Oh! Herons! Beautiful white and great blue herons. Egrets too. Both very like the pterodactyl in build if not in size. You might even see the occasional alligator too,” he shivered with delight. 

“Real alligators?” Jack lit up.

“Real alligators,” Reid insisted. “Right there. Before your very eyes. So close, they make you nervous. Haven’t you ever been to the Everglades?” Spencer asked.

“We usually go to Disney World when we go to Florida,” Jack replied. 

“Oh,” Reid sighed, disappointed. 

“Don’t you like roller coasters?” Jack asked. 

“Um….” Reid gave a sideways smile, and panicked, searching for something positive to say in order to avoid dampening Jack’s bubbling enthusiasm. 

“Not really?” Jack guessed all too quickly. 

“Not really,” Reid admitted. “The last time I was on a roller coaster, I tossed my cookies. Do children say that? I threw up. It was not a pleasant experience for me, or the unfortunate people around me,” Reid confided. 

“Yuck,” Jack responded. Reid smiled faintly at his horrified expression. 

“We could do our own wildlife field study in Florida. If we can drag Daddy away from work long enough,” Reid said. 

“What’s a field study?” Jack asked. 

Reid stopped in his tracks again. They were almost to the security desk and the exit. Spencer felt a stroller collide with the backs of his legs, and he turned to give the pusher a very sharp look indeed. The woman offered no apology, and stared the other way while her son tugged at her side, and wriggled around, and tried to escape her grasp.

“A field study is when you go out into the field, and study,” Spencer replied simply, turning his attention back to Jack, who looked a bit sheepish not to have figured that out on his own. “You’ve never done a field study in school?” 

“We have, but I didn’t know that’s what they were called. Can we do a field study about the T-Rex arms?” Jack hoped. 

“For that we would require a T-Rex,” Reid answered, letting Jack go through the security area. Reid nodded to the guard, and the guard nodded back to him. “I suppose we could improvise,” Spencer continued, letting Jack drag him by the arm towards the revolving exit door. 

“What does that mean? Improvise?” Jack asked. 

“It means we would have to imagine T-Rexes. We might even imagine ourselves as T-Rexes.” 

“GREAT! Where should we go? We need trees, and leaves, and small prey to chase,” Jack exclaimed, racing outside, nearly tripping Reid with the revolving door. Spencer snatched his satchel through in the nick of time. 

“Let’s go home. Lots of trees there,” Reid said as he leaned on his cane and hugged his bag close to his chest. Behind them, there was a fair bit of clamoring chaos as the woman who had bumped Reid with her stroller attempted to push the damned thing through the revolving door. Reid shook his head as the exit line began to back up behind her. He carefully picked his way down the marble steps like a three-legged mountain goat down a sheer hillside. 

Jack stopped and peered behind them again, squinting and darting back and forth. Spencer glanced back at the regular door beside the blocked revolving door. He could just make out a portly man and woman standing side by side, peering through the glass, their eyes focused on Jack. Their faces were eerily-familiar. Jack couldn't see them because his view was blocked by the pushing, shoving people on the stairs. Reid doubted that the couple could see either he or Jack either. 

A frisson of alarm coursed through Spencer’s body. He had a sense he was falling, and whirled around to find something to grab to steady himself. The momentum of his turn only took him down faster. The stone steps reached up and grabbed his legs and hands. He went down, and his cane skittered away from him. People parted around him and kept on going, gawking blankly at him as they went past. Jack raced to retrieve Spencer’s cane, and helped Reid back to his feet. 

“Are you okay, Papa?” Jack fretted. 

“Thank you. Yes. I’m okay,” Reid promised, shaking his left wrist and bending down to rub his knees. When Spencer looked back up the steps, the couple at the door was gone. Miles did appear by Reid’s side though.

“You good, Dr. Reid?” he asked.

“I’m good,” Reid nodded. Miles accepted the response at face value even though it was an obvious lie. He guided them out of the path of the people streaming up and down the stairs, walking them over to the side, the handrail, and the short wall. He placed Reid right up against it, and gave him a meaningful stare. 

“Wait here. I’ll bring the car around,” the serious lieutenant ordered. Jack stood next to Reid, guarding him, hugging himself in Reid’s arm while leaning against him. 

“Please don’t tell Daddy I made you fall,” Jack whispered. 

“It wasn’t your fault, buddy,” Reid replied, rubbing his palms and wiggling his fingers. Jack patted Reid’s right knee. Spencer noted that tiny speckles of red were appearing on his trouser leg. His patella was tingling, but he shook off the feeling. He was determined to not seem fragile in front of Jack. 

“Do you have an ouchie?” Jack asked. 

“Nope. I’m okay,” Reid insisted. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jack persisted. “I think you’re bleeding.”

“I’m sure I’m okay,” Reid replied. 

“If any parts fall off, you want me to pick them up?” Jack asked devilishly. 

“No parts are going to fall off,” Reid chuckled. Jack patted Reid’s knee again, and watched his face carefully. 

“Are you sure that doesn't hurt?” Jack tested. 

“I’m sure,” Reid answered between gritted teeth.


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey! You’re back! How was the museum?” Hotch bellowed through the house when he heard the door open. 

“It was hot! And there were rude people everywhere, pushing and shoving ,” Jack replied as he climbed the steps. 

“Sorry,” Hotch mused. 

“Dad, would you like to help with our dinosaur field study?” Jack asked, suddenly in the study with Hotch. 

Aaron glanced sideways from his computer monitor, one brow up, one eye narrowed. “Um…” 

“Unless you’re too busy,” Jack added, fingering the edge of the desk and giving Hotch a sideways glance. 

Another figure appeared in the doorway of the study. Reid was doing his best to look inconspicuous, while at the same time wanting to be there to intercede on Jack’s behalf if needed. 

“I am….um….kinda busy,” Aaron stammered. Unfinished work taunted Hotch from the desktop. Jack was at first hopeful and then depressed, anticipating the rejection he suspected was coming. 

“It’s a beautiful evening out there,” Spencer commented, limping over into the conversation, futzing with Hotch’s files, straightening them, stacking them, tidying them up for him, surreptitiously taking in all the information while putting the pages away. “It sure would be a shame. To waste the whole day inside. Sitting at the computer. Going over open cases.”

“You okay?” Hotch asked, glancing down at Reid’s right knee and back up again. 

“I’m fine.” 

“He fell on the steps,” Jack blurted. 

“Why didn’t you take the handicapped ramp?” Hotch asked.

“Because I’m not handicapped,” Reid hissed, frowned, and narrowed his eyes. 

“Okay….” Hotch whispered to himself, pulling slightly back from Reid’s acid tone. 

“As much as I want to see him captured. I don’t believe Edward Trovinger is going to do much harm. In the one hour of daylight left today,” Reid opined. Hotch took the file away from Reid, and gave him a sour look. Jack stared towards the window, the sunshine, and the outside. The youngster pined melodramatically for Hotch's benefit. While Jack wasn’t watching, Reid took the opportunity to thump Hotch in the back of the head, mainly because Hotch started poking him in his right knee. 

“ ‘Jack, I would love to help with your dinosaur field study’,” Reid prompted Hotch, giving his earlobe a quick pinch. 

“Jack, I would love to help with your dinosaur field study,” Hotch echoed obediently. “What do I have to do?” Hotch asked Jack, lowering the laptop cover and giving his son his complete attention. Jack’s face brightened considerably. 

“It’s easy. All you have to do is run and hide.”

“What will you be doing?”

“Chasing you,” Jack smiled wickedly, raising his arms in pretend claws. 

“That doesn’t sound particularly scientific,” Hotch pointed out as Jack dragged him up out of his chair. He groaned and held his back until he was upright. “What are we studying?” Hotch asked. 

“We want to know why the T-Rex has such short arms,” Jack said. 

“You might want to change before we go outside,” Reid suggested to Aaron. 

“Hmm?” Hotch paused. Jack continued down the steps, racing for the kitchen door and bursting full speed out into the backyard. 

“You hardly ever see dinosaurs wear a suit and tie,” Reid mused.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to chase Jack?” Hotch wondered. 

“He needs to run off some energy, either way. You chasing him. Him chasing you,” Reid commented. 

Aaron slipped into the master bedroom and hunted up his favorite pair of dark blue sweats and his ‘World’s #1 Dad’ shirt which Jack had given him for Christmas, through Uncle Dave. Hotch was casually dressed in no time. He cast his eyes up at the doorway. Reid had been standing there quietly the whole time. Spencer’s amber eyes glittered hungrily, but he put away those thoughts for now, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Do you think Dave meant this ironically?” Hotch asked, indicating his shirt.

“No,” Reid denied. 

Aaron was no doubt going over the memory in his mind – how Jack had crowded onto his lap and watched him opening the present. Hotch could still hear Jack’s eager words—‘I want to see what I got for you!’ A wistful smile traced his lips and then was gone. 

“You gonna change?” Hotch asked. 

“Yes,” Reid rumbled. 

“Need help?” Hotch asked, nipping at his shoulder as they both stood in the doorway. 

“No. I’ll just…um…..oh….” Reid stammered. Hotch nibbled a kiss to his throat, and to his shoulder. 

"Want me to kiss your ouchie?" 

"No," Reid said pointedly. 

“Thanks for taking Jack to the museum.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Did you have fun too?” 

“I did manage to have. A little fun. I am, however, no substitute for you. And your undivided attention. You need to stop working on the weekends. You need to spend time with Jack. Work will wait until Monday.”

“I know,” Hotch agreed. He unbuckled Reid’s buckle, and unbuttoned his sweater vest too. 

“He is not going to be eight forever.”

“I know.”

“You should….”

“Stop nagging, and kiss me,” Hotch teased, nosing Reid’s neck and nipping at his chin. He was lifting up edges of Spencer’s teeshirt, caressing his bare skin underneath.

“Aaron…..um….uhn……Jack is….waiting…. You. Go outside. Now,” Reid pointed, pushing Hotch’s hands away. As if on cue, the kitchen door opened again. Jack came rushing inside. 

“DAD! Hurry up!! It’s getting dark!" 

Hotch sheepishly followed Jack outside into the sunshine and the crisp spring air. Twilight was hovering close at hand. Buds and leaves were filling out in every possible space they could grow. Not that there had been much of a winter, very little snow and even less cold weather, but spring was being very enthusiastic. Every plant seemed brighter and more beautiful, the blossoms more full, the leaves more leafy. Or maybe it was just that Hotch had more to smile about this year, and that was making the whole world seem brighter and more beautiful. 

Jack tugged Hotch back and forth in the yard, barking instructions at him. 

“Okay, I’m going to stand over here. No. Over here. No. Over here.”

“What do you want me to do?” Hotch asked. 

“Pretend you’re eating that tree,” Jack ordered, pointing to one of the lilac bushes which bordered the big barn. 

“How do you know I don’t prefer to eat meat instead of veggies?” Hotch asked. 

“You can’t eat meat, because if you did, we’d have to find another person to be even smaller prey for you to chase,” Jack replied, giving Hotch a gentle nudge. Hotch stood his ground. 

“What kind of dinosaurs are we studying here?” he asked. 

“T-Rexes,” Jack explained again. Reid made his way stiffly out of the house and down the back stoop. He was wearing his brown sweats, and a green teeshirt which read ‘Archeology – Can You Dig It?’ Hotch laughed when he read the words, but he felt a stab of jealousy too. Where had Reid gotten that shirt? Hotch had never seen it before. Had it come from Dr. Allison? 

“Nice,” Hotch grumbled. 

“It seemed appropriate,” Reid replied a tiny smile. He read Hotch’s jealousy and put a hand protectively to the shirt. He wondered suddenly if it would quietly disappear, the same way Ethan’s music disc had. 

“What does that first word mean?” Jack asked, pointing to Reid’s chest. 

“If I told you that ‘arkaois’ is from the Greek. Meaning ancient, archaic, old. And that ‘ology’ is the study of something. What do you think it means?”

“The study of old things,” Jack responded. 

“Precisely that,” Reid smiled. 

“Tell Dad to behave. He wants to be a carnivore,” Jack explained with an impatient sigh which begged Reid to talk sense to Hotch. Aaron’s eyes twinkled merrily as Spencer faced him. Hotch was daring Reid to challenge him. It was his way of reinforcing the male hierarchy in their house. Reid knew it. 

“Daddy may be a carnivore if he so wishes,” Reid relented. “T-Rexes ate a variety of prey. Both herbivore and carnivore. Paleontologists have speculated. That they may have been carrion eaters as well as hunters,” Reid told Jack. 

“What is a paleontologist?" Jack asked. "You said that word before, at the museum. Do they only study dinosaurs? What does carrion mean?" 

“It means T-Rexes might have eaten already-dead things. Like vultures do,” Hotch said. 

“Eww,” Jack winced. 

“We eat dead things all the time,” Hotch interjected. 

“No, we don’t,” Jack replied. 

“Yes, we do,” Reid smiled. 

“What was the last live creature you ate?” Hotch asked his son. Jack pondered this question, and frowned again. 

“We do eat dead things! That’s really gross,” Jack decided. 

Hotch turned to Reid to murmur, “I get the feeling I’m going to outlast you in this field study.”

“Why is that?” 

“T-Rexes were solitary hunters,” Hotch said, pointing to Jack. “That makes you and I both small prey,” he added, pointing to each of them in turn. 

“Yes?” Reid questioned. 

“Slow and injured members of the herd are always the first to go,” Aaron grinned playfully. 

“Ah. I see your meaning. While it is true. That you are faster, and more capable of eluding our petit but dangerous predator. You should not make the mistake of discounting. My ability to use stealth and guile,” Reid reminded Hotch. 

“Guile, maybe,” Hotch snickered playfully. 

“I possess a great deal of stealth,” Reid replied haughtily. 

“Sure you do,” Hotch soothed, patting his shoulder. 

Jack looked back and forth between them as they spoke. 

“You aren’t going to start kissing again, are you?” he worried. 

“No,” Hotch laughed as Reid blushed and rubbed one toe in the ground. 

“Good. You only have ten seconds. Better go hide!” Jack blurted. He covered his face with both hands and leaned against the side of his pirate ship playset. “Ten….. Nine….” 

Reid immediately bolted away. Perhaps bolted wasn’t the best way to describe how he moved, but certainly, he walked as quickly as he could, taking up a position behind the nearest tree which could conceal his tall, thin form. He peered around the side of the scratchy bark to watch what Aaron was doing. 

Hotch hadn’t moved more than three steps away from Jack. He stopped. He grinned. He waited. If anything, Hotch returned closer to his son. 

Jack counted down loudly, “Eight….. Seven….. Six….” 

Hotch slowly raised his arms, looming over the boy, smiling wickedly. 

“Five…. Four…… Three…. Two…..” Jack continued. 

Hotch was practically standing on top of Jack. How could the boy not feel his presence there? 

“One!” Jack exclaimed, whirling around. He screamed and his eyes nearly popped out when he encountered Hotch bearing down on him from point blank range. Hotch lunged with the full intention of missing him, and did so. Jack quickly sprinted away. Reid laughed to himself, watching Hotch chasing Jack around the playset, back and forth, arms stretched out, almost snatching at Jack’s shoulder several times. Hotch was growling, and snapping his teeth at his son. 

“DAAAAD! You aren’t supposed to chase MEEEEE!” Jack wailed. This was another instance of Hotch reinforcing his alpha male superiority in the household. He certainly wasn't going to settle for being 'small prey', and neither was he going to play by someone else's rules either. Hotch was closing the distance on Jack, but backing off too, making it more of a game for himself, all the while snarling and gnashing, stretching his arms out even further. 

“They had short arms! Short arms!!!” Jack complained. “DAAAAD!”

Aaron seized Jack up off the ground, spinning him effortlessly around and up onto one shoulder. He landed a playful bite or two on Jack’s side as the boy screamed and struggled. Jack scrambled and kicked, arms and legs flailing. He managed to connect a knee with Hotch’s nose and mouth. Surprised, Hotch let go of Jack in order to grab his bleeding face. The youngster plummeted downward.

Jack landed on his hands and knees while Hotch pulled up his teeshirt and stemmed the blood dripping from his bottom lip. Reid hurried forward, as Jack leapt up and sprinted away. Jack was unaware that he had injured Hotch. The youngster merrily tore around the side of the house as fast as his legs could carry him. Hotch and Reid could hear Jack bellowing as he crossed through the front yard. Reid stroked Hotch’s shoulder, lifting his chin, tenderly dotting Aaron’s mouth with a tissue which had been folded up in his pocket since the last time he had worn these sweats. At least it wasn’t a used tissue, Hotch noted. 

“You gonna live?” Spencer fretted. 

Hotch shrugged, eyes darting behind Reid. Miles was standing by the barn door, smiling broadly at the both of them. Hotch grinned at Spencer, eyes bright and merry. He was going to be fine. Better than fine. The chase had stirred up his blood, made him cheerier. The lieutenant disappeared back inside again. 

“I'll live. He’s pretty feisty, isn’t he?” Aaron replied. 

Jack made the circuit around the house, still screaming. This time, there was a different reason for his excitement though. Headlights were rumbling into the long driveway. The safety beams belonged to an enormous, boxy, tan and black vehicle. The well-travelled RV scraped the lowest tree branches as it lumbered to a stop behind Hotch’s SUV, which was parked in front of the garage instead of inside it. Jack jumped up and down as he waited for the occupants to emerge. He obviously recognized the vehicle. Hotch put a precautionary hand on Reid’s arm when John and Ann Brooks climbed down. Spencer immediately recognized them as the couple he had seen in the doorway at the museum. 

“Did I mention they called while you and Jack were downtown?” Hotch said.

“No,” Reid gulped, shivering. 

“They went to the Natural History Museum, hoping to find you there. Guess they missed you,” Hotch added anxiously. 

“Guess so,” Reid frowned at Hotch, dotting his cut lip quite roughly with the tissue. 

“Hey, Mrs. Brooks! Hey, John!” Hotch waved to them. “How was the drive?” 

“Hello, Aaron. How are you?” Mr. Brooks called back. “The drive was fine.” 

“You must be Spencer,” Mrs. Brooks said as Hotch all but dragged Reid over to the driveway. She beamed, and extended a hand to Reid.


	3. Chapter 3

“Jack tells us you’re a doctor,” Ann Brooks said. Spencer was collecting dinner dishes and stacking them carefully on one arm. 

“But not a medical doctor,” John Brooks added quickly, glancing again at the words emblazoned on Reid’s shirt. “That kind of doctor?” he asked as he pointed a beefy finger at Reid’s chest. 

“No, not an archeologist. Though I do dabble,” Reid sputtered quietly. 

Spencer hadn’t said very much during dinner, answering questions with a nervous, stuttering, bare minimum of words. Hotch and Jack were upstairs at the moment. He could hear their happy voices above through the open well of the dining room. Hotch was helping Jack pack an overnight bag, and the boy couldn’t decide what toys to take. Reid limped back towards the kitchen with the dishes in tow, retreating out of sight. He landed the dishes in the sink with a clumsy, noisy clatter. 

“Jack, it’s overnight. You aren’t going to need all those things,” Hotch was saying. 

“Yes, I will!” Jack insisted. 

“Let me help you with those,” Mrs. Brooks said to Reid, getting to her feet, coming around the table and into the kitchen. 

“No, please. You’re our guests,” Reid replied quickly. “Sit. Relax. Be comfortable.” 

“Watch out, Mrs. Brooks. Reid is very territorial. He doesn’t trust anyone else to load the dishwasher,” Hotch interjected playfully from above. 

“That’s not true,” Reid countered. 

"Is too!" Jack called back. Reid gave a tiny smile of acknowledgement. Mrs. Brooks bustled around the table, cleaning up while trying to look like she wasn’t cleaning up. It was another demonstration of how societal expectations ruled actions. She must have felt it was unseemly to remain seated while someone else cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. 

“Ann, sit,” Mr. Brooks teased, taking her hand. 

Mrs. Brooks had paced nervously at the kitchen doorway the entire time Reid and Hotch had spent preparing dinner: baked ham and green beans, a quick salad on the side, with a couple other vegetable dishes as well. The fresh-baked bread had gone from freezer to oven to table to vanished in about fifteen minutes flat. Reid had been smiling about that ever since. Mrs. Brooks hadn’t been comfortable, watching Reid limp around while she was doing nothing. Seeing Hotch in the kitchen was an entirely new experience for her, that was obvious. Mrs. Brooks had cast many despairing glances at her husband. She would have been right there in the kitchen too, if Mr. Brooks hadn’t plucked her back several times by the hem of her bright, flowery shirt. 

Dinner had been a quiet, awkward affair. The mood had been livened only by the way Jack babbled happily about the dinosaur exhibit, and the unorthodox field study. The Brookses had spent a lot of dinner smiling and nodding while they listened to Jack talk, but mostly they had been interested in getting a good look at Reid. They had passed any number of stares back and forth between themselves. It was like they were communicating telepathically, and it was very unnerving. Reid could see why it bothered Jack when Reid and Hotch did that. 

Haley’s mother was not at all what Reid had expected. Well, no, she was exactly what he had expected, but he was pleasantly surprised by her nonetheless. Mrs. Brooks was what Reid imagined Haley would have been like, if she had been lucky enough to reach sixty-plus years of age. Mrs. Brooks had blonde hair and large, warm, brown eyes on a thin face with a long nose. There was a very kind aura about her person. She wasn’t as thin as Haley had been. The bony figure of youth had been slowly replaced by the roundness of middle age, those extra few pounds on the waist and hips which so many middle-aged woman hated about themselves, but which were a perfectly normal as the metabolism slowed and the body underwent changes. 

Although Mrs. Brooks was kind and motherly, Reid could tell that her friendly manner was a veneer over her insecurity underneath. Until she was sure of Reid, she wasn’t going to let herself trust him whole-heartedly. That was a good thing, Reid decided, because he was a stranger, after all, and strangers should be kept at a safe distance until you were sure of them. Mrs. Brooks was not unfriendly, but she was cautious. Reid understood her hesitance, and he respected it. 

Haley’s father was interesting as well. Looking at Mr. Brooks was like seeing Jack in sixty years – blond hair turning white, skin weathered a healthy brown, thick arms, a sturdy build. Reid thought he remembered Jack saying that Mr. Brooks had been an architect, or in the construction field? Reid felt sure Mr. Brooks had never been happy at an inside, desk job. He liked the outdoors too much to keep himself cooped up in an office or in a house. He had spoken with glowing joy about how the RV sitting in the driveway was the very one in which Haley and Jessica had endured many camping trips and road trips as young children. Mr. Brooks had talked with happy glee about when Haley and Hotch had first started dating, how he had bonded with Hotch, man to man, by taking the high school boy on a two-week camping and hunting trip. Maybe that was when Hotch had developed such a love of the outdoors, Reid speculated. The two men had a good relationship – that much was obvious. Mr. Brooks liked Hotch very much. Hotch liked him too. More than that, Hotch respected John. He saw the man in such a positive light, hung on his words in conversation, enthusiastically responded whenever addressed. That made Reid a little sad, knowing that Hotch's own father had left Aaron so desperate for a positive male role model. Mr. Brooks was everything to his family that Hotch's father had never been. Reid did find it interesting though that Aaron called Haley’s father by his first name, but he always used an honorific title with Haley’s mother. 

Mr. Brooks loved his food too. He could definitely eat. His dinner plate had been completely empty when Reid had taken it away. Spencer had not yet taken the dessert plate because John's big hands continued to fiddle with his silverware. He was picking at the remains while longing for more. He watched with smoldering interest as his wife carted away the leftover slices of cheesecake. She caught his look and waggled a finger at him. He sighed and glanced away, putting down his fork. 

John Brooks’ eyes connected with Reid’s eyes when Spencer shyly retrieved the dessert plate. Haley’s father’s face went blank with nervousness before he pulled on a broad smile. Mr. Brooks was unsure what to make of Reid. He didn’t know how to act around Hotch’s new partner. Hotch and Reid’s relationship troubled Mr. Brooks, but not because they were a same-sex couple. Mr. Brooks would have been equally ill-at-ease if Hotch had replaced Haley with another woman. He was uncomfortable with the fact that Hotch had married again. He wasn’t sure if he should like Reid or not. He didn’t dislike him. He didn’t want to make that mistake right off the bat. But he wasn’t sure if he was ready to actually like Reid, not yet. He would need time to make up his own mind in his own time about the new person in Jack’s life. 

Jack’s glowing opinion of Reid swung the scales in Spencer’s favor, but all in all, Reid knew that Aunt Jessica’s opinion of him carried a lot more weight with Haley’s parents. That was due to the fact she was an adult, and because she had a psychology degree. Jessica interacted with Hotch and Reid on a regular basis because she often picked up Jack when she picked up her own sons from school, and she took care of Jack while Hotch and Reid were away for work. Jack hadn’t had to stay over so much since Reid was on medical leave, but Jessica had continued with the same afternoon routine. Keeping up the routine had a number of benefits, not the least of which was that it allowed Jack to spend time with Haley's sister and his cousins. Hotch wanted Jack to know it was okay to love his extended family as much as his immediate family, even though his parents had been divorced and his mother was dead. Through Jessica, Haley would always be a part of Jack's life. Where Hotch coped by not talking about Haley, not having her pictures up, and not mentioning her, Jessica coped with losing Haley by behaving exactly the opposite. It also helped that she looked and sounded like her sister too. 

Spencer wasn’t altogether sure where he stood with Jessica. She was always friendly, but there was a twinge of hesitance underneath that friendliness. Perhaps it had been caused by something Haley might had said about Reid in the past? The sisters had been very close, and must have spoken in confidence to one another. That was only to be expected. Those talks had no doubt covered the topic of Haley’s frustration with Hotch over his obsession with work. Those conversations about Hotch's job might naturally have included discussions about the people Hotch worked with, including Dr. Reid, no doubt. Spencer couldn’t help but worry what Haley might have said to her sister in a fit of anger or jealousy or frustration. 

Haley herself had not liked Reid, although she had always been kind to him when he was around. She had tolerated him for Hotch’s sake, as she had tolerated the rest of the team. She was angry that they received more of Hotch’s undivided attention than she ever had. That was simple, and it was understandable. Maybe it was more than that though. Maybe Haley had sensed Reid’s attraction to Hotch, and the reciprocal attraction that Hotch felt for Reid, in spite of both their best efforts to repress and to conceal how they felt about one another. 

Reid made sure that he never said anything negative about Haley in front of Hotch or Jack either one. Spencer didn’t want to cloud Jack’s precious few memories of his mother. Besides that, he knew for a fact that Hotch would love Haley until the day he died, no matter what had happened between them while their marriage was falling apart. Reid was all right with that. He understood it, and he approved. Haley was Hotch's first love, and she would always have a special place in his heart. 

Reid made himself see all the positive things about Haley – her undeniable love for her son, her unswerving devotion, the way she had protected Jack down to her last breath. She had been an intelligent and caring individual. She had had a beautiful smile and a bright, sunny face. That’s the way Reid made himself think of her—not as the snarling, angry, vengeful shrew who had badgered Aaron into a separation that he had loathed, and a divorce that had emotionally crushed him. Those memories and feelings remained in Reid's mind though, and when they surfaced, they conjured protective feelings in Reid. The negative memories would surface when Reid sensed the wounds Haley had caused in Hotch’s psyche, when Reid unknowingly brushed across a tender scar, or nudged a sensitivity which Aaron struggled to hide away. No one can hurt you like the ones you love. 

Nothing demonstrated more accurately what Haley had thought of Reid than the ghastly blind date she had arranged for him with Dr. Oshira, during the holidays several Christmases ago. Reid cringed in embarrassment whenever he recalled that evening to mind. Of course, there were any number of other dreadful experiences which Hotch might have also relayed to Haley and/or Jessica too. Reid’s heart banged in his chest as he rinsed the dishes and stacked them in the dishwasher. He moved slowly as to take up more time, hoping Hotch would hurry back downstairs. The Brookses were whispering back and forth to one another. Reid pretended he couldn't hear them. 

"He's so young." 

"God, he is young." 

"Oh, John."

"I know." 

"I mean, Jess said he was younger, but....you know? I didn't expect him to be this young."

"I know...." 

Aaron was peeking down over the railing from the landing as Reid returned to the table to clear more dishes. Spencer raised his eyes to give Aaron a pleading stare, and Hotch had the nerve to wink at him, and go right back to helping Jack pack for his overnight visit. Reid lowered his sad eyes, and caught an expression of undisguised pity on Mrs. Brooks’ face. 

“So, um, can we call you Spencer?” Mrs. Brooks asked. She was collecting the bowl of green beans from the table. She glanced at Jack’s dishes, and clearly wondered about the diced bits of bacon that he had been left on his plate. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Reid replied. 

“We can call you ‘Reid’ if you prefer. I’ve noticed that Aaron calls you that. For years, I thought ‘Reid’ was your first name. Which do you prefer?” Mr. Brooks asked jovially. 

“Either one, sir,” Reid blushed. 

“How long until they let you go back to work, kiddo?” Mr. Brooks asked as Mrs. Brooks headed back into the kitchen with serving bowls in her hands.

“Oh, John,” Ann chided from the threshold. 

“What?” Mr. Brooks defended softly to her. 

“That’s none of your business,” Mrs. Brooks whispered back at him. 

“It could be some time before I am allowed to return,” Reid admitted. Mr. Brooks nodded in sympathy. 

"I fell down some scaffolding one time on a build-site. Threw my back out of place, dislocated a shoulder. Broke my left hand. The worst part was being cooped up for six months. The broken bones didn't hurt near as much as being off work. That about killed me." 

"Me too," Mrs. Brooks teased her husband. 

“Aaron said your supervisor can be a real piece of work. What was it you called her that one time?” Mr. Brooks looked up at Hotch, who was peering down again from above. Aaron was wearing out a path on the landing. 

“Probably not something you can repeat in front of Jack,” Hotch answered with a roguish smile. “Reid is coming back to work on March 1. I need him. We’ve got cases piling up around our asses.” 

“March 1 might be overly optimistic,” Reid interjected, more to Hotch than to Mr. Brooks. 

“Don’t they want you back?” Mr. Brooks asked. 

“Of course we do!” Hotch called down.

“The subject is open to debate, so I am told,” Reid murmured. 

“The hell it is! Who told you that?” Hotch demanded sternly. Reid flinched at the angry bellow, and almost dropped the dishes he was carrying. 

“Strauss would like to see me. In a different department. For my own good,” Reid admitted, coming back into the dining room and getting down on his hands and knees to retrieve a fork he had dropped to the floor. 

“Fuck Strauss and the horse she rode in on!” Hotch snarled. 

“Aaron,” Mrs. Brooks chided. “Let me get that, hon,” she added, getting down on the floor with Reid and crawling under the table. She was very agile for a woman in her sixties. Of course, constant travel and physical activity helped to keep her going. Reid was embarrassed that someone nearly forty years his senior was better able to move and bend and stretch than he was. 

“Sorry, ma'am,” Hotch apologized humbly, looking at Jack, grimacing when he saw his son was fixed on his every word. 

“Have you two worked together for a long time?” Mr. Brooks asked Reid. 

“Almost twelve years,” Hotch replied. Mr. Brooks’ smile wavered as he digested that thought. He tried to smile through it but failed. Reid wondered, as he hunted for the fork and found more bits of bacon on the floor under Jack's chair, if Mr. Brooks was worried about exactly what Strauss had insinuated – that Hotch and Reid had been sexually involved for the duration of their acquaintance. Guilt coursed through Spencer, guilt and shame. It wasn’t true, of course, but that would never stop people from jumping to the erroneous conclusion. 

“It might be a good thing. If I went to a different department,” Spencer began sadly. Mrs. Brooks backed out from under the table with a fallen napkin in her grip. “Change is good,” Reid continued, picking up the fork and the minute pieces of bacon. Mrs. Brooks handed him the napkin and patted him gently on the arm.

“You should do what makes you happy, dear, not what Mrs. Strauss wants, and not what Aaron wants either,” Mrs. Brooks told him. 

“Reid, you are not going to a different department. I don’t care what Strauss told you,” Hotch called out sternly. 

“She made several other offers,” Reid murmured.

“Anything interesting?” Mrs. Brooks asked, getting back up to her feet. 

“You don't have to rush, you know? Have you ever considered not returning to work at all? It might be good for Jack to have someone here when he gets home from school,” Mr. Brooks suggested. 

“Yes,” Reid admitted. “I had thought about that.”

“Reid?!” Hotch shouted. “Are you crazy?”

“John, mind your own business,” Mrs. Brooks whispered. 

“Grand-dad, Papa can’t stay home. He has to go back to work, or he’ll get stabby,” Jack announced happily. Reid blushed hot red, and Hotch winced. Mr. Brooks snickered softly, but Mrs. Brooks did not. 

“I’m sure I’d be stabby too if I had to stay home all day with nothing to occupy myself,” Mrs. Brooks told Reid. “You mind your own business,” she told Mr. Brooks pointedly. 

Mr. Brooks grinned and nodded to Reid. “Well, son, I guess you know who wears the pants in our family,” he joked. “Both my girls turned out like their mother too. Poor Aaron, and poor Jerry.” 

Haley’s father paused to listen to his own words, and frowned to himself when he realized the absurdity of that expression when applied to two men instead of a man and a woman. 

“I didn’t mean anything by that crack about pants,” Mr. Brooks added.

“No, sir,” Reid agreed amiably. “I know.” 

“Oh, John,” Mrs. Brooks sighed again. Reid got the feeling she said that quite often. “It would be different of course if you had a baby or small children to care for. But that’s not going to be a problem with two boys, is it?” she worried.

“I don’t know,” Hotch purred, leaning on the banister and giving a sideways, happy smile. “It would be wonderful to have a Spencer, Jr. running around the house. Jack would LOVE a baby brother, wouldn’t you, buddy?”

“Yes! Yes! YES!" Jack chanted as he bounced around on the landing. Reid gave Hotch a glance which promised a slow, torturous, painful death if he didn’t shut his big yap, right this second. Aaron read the glance and grinned even wider. 

“We could go in for IVF, like the Larssons did,” Hotch continued. “All we’d need is a surrogate. That wouldn’t be too hard to find, would it? Run an ad in the paper?” 

Reid needled Hotch with another dangerous glare. Mrs. Brooks intervened again. 

“I enjoyed staying home when the girls were small, but the minute they were in Kindergarten, I wanted out of that house. My own job. My own life. I’m sure that hasn’t changed these days, has it?” she asked. “Jack is getting to be a big boy. He doesn’t need someone hovering over him every minute of the day. How’s a child ever supposed to skin his knees, or climb trees, or fall in love, or have adventures, if someone is there watching his every move?” 

"Yes, ma'am," Reid replied. He could feel Hotch watching his every move. Mr. Brooks was watching Reid closely too. Spencer needed to get up off the floor, but he sat where he was, contemplating how to get up from here without using the table or a chair or another sturdy object for support. He didn’t want to appear fragile, least of all in front of Jack. 

Maybe Strauss was right. Maybe Reid was a physical wreck, in horrible shape. He caught a glance of himself in the glass door of the lower oven, which was visible through the open doorway of the kitchen. He was a scarecrow-- angular, jagged, emaciated. He looked sallow and freakish. He looked frightening. He did not look well. Maybe he wasn’t cut out for the BAU position any longer. Maybe he should take a year or so off, stay home with Jack, and think about what he wanted to do with the rest of his life, beyond tracking down serial killers, maybe even beyond the FBI. 

“Are we going to Florida?” Jack interrupted Reid’s miserable reverie, dragging one of Hotch’s old go-bags down the stairs, the bag with the repaired handle. It banged loudly with each step. 

“Not tonight, Jack. We’re having a sleepover at Aunt Jess’s this weekend. But over Spring Break, in a few weeks, we can go anywhere you want, even to Florida. You’re pretty anxious to see Mickey Mouse again, aren’t you?” Mr. Brooks replied, dusting crumbs off his chest and patting Jack on the arm when the youngster stood next to his chair. When they were side by side, their resemblance was even more obvious. Reid studied them together, watched the biological echoes, the facial movements, the way they spoke, the way they used their hands, how they shifted in tandem. 

“I wanna go to the Everglades! Papa said there are real live alligators in the Everglades. I want to see the alligators!” Jack exclaimed. “Can we go there over Spring Break?”

“Do you need help up?” Hotch asked as he rounded the staircase and strode into the dining room. 

“No. I don’t need help. I can…do it…myself,” Reid grunted as he reached up to get a grip on the table in order to pull himself over onto his hands and knees, to be able to stand from there. Hotch put his hands under Reid’s armpits and lifted him effortlessly to his feet. Spencer’s chin sagged sadly to his chest. Hotch surveyed Reid's appearance. He tugged up his drooping sweats, and straightening his shirt hem, tucking it gently back down. Aaron finished by patting Reid on the tummy. Mrs. Brooks was frowning at Aaron, looking very annoyed. Mr. Brooks watched Hotch and Reid together, and he frowned too, though not for the same reason as Mrs. Brooks. 

“Jack, if the weather is nice over Spring Break, I promise we’ll go to the Everglades,” Mr. Brooks said. 

“Of course we can. But for tonight, we have to pick up the cousins, and soon. We’re going to be late to the movies if we don’t hurry,” Mrs. Brooks urged him along. 

“Can Papa come along too? To the movies and to Florida?” Jack asked. He hugged himself against Spencer’s stomach. Jack leaning against Reid’s front pushed Spencer back against Hotch, who took the opportunity to kiss Reid on the nape of the neck. Mr. Brooks looked flustered, and Mrs. Brooks laughed softly, uncomfortably. Reid blushed and petted Jack’s cowlick. 

“No, Jack, Papa is staying home with me while you visit with your granny and grand-dad,” Hotch answered, resting one big hand on Jack’s shoulder. 

“You wouldn’t want Daddy to be lonely, would you?” Mrs. Brooks said. “If you and Reid both go, who will keep Daddy company?” 

“Goody will,” Jack offered. 

“Who’s Goody?” Mr. Brooks asked. 

“The cat,” Hotch smiled. 

“I thought Mouse was the cat,” Mr. Brooks said as an aside to Mrs. Brooks. 

“No, Mouse is Reid’s daughter, right?” she checked. 

“Yes, Mouse is my daughter Katherine, who lives in Seattle with her mother,” Reid confirmed. 

“So this is your second marriage too?” Mrs. Brooks asked hopefully. 

“Um, no,” Reid admitted with a wince. He left it at that. Their faces showed their confusion. Spencer hoped desperately that Hotch had not tried to explain the complicated situation with Korsakova, either to Aunt Jessica or to Haley’s parents, and that he never attempted to do so. 

“Where is the cat?” Mr. Brooks asked, glancing around. 

“Goody likes to prowl around outside all hours of the day and night,” Hotch replied. 

“You ready, buddy?” Mr. Brooks asked. 

“I want to bring Papa along,” Jack insisted. 

“Jack, no, Papa is staying home with me,” Hotch answered. 

Jack frowned at Hotch and held more tightly to Reid’s arm. 

“I’m staying home, Jack. You have a wonderful time,” Spencer said, petting Hotch’s son’s wild hair again. 

“You ready?” Mrs. Brooks asked Jack. 

“We’d better hurry,” Mr. Brooks added. 

“Why can’t Papa go?” Jack asked stubbornly.

“Because I said so!” Hotch bellowed sternly, his tempestuous angry rising up again. And that was that, clearly, at least as far as Aaron was concerned. Jack gave Hotch a narrow-eyed frown, but did as he was told.


	4. Chapter 4

Once Jack had finished his goodbyes, and Mr. Brooks had backed the behemoth RV out of the driveway, Reid and Hotch quietly finished clearing the table. They stacked the dishes in the dishwasher, and straightened the kitchen and the dining room. How strange it felt to be alone in the house together without Jack there!

Hotch followed Reid with worried eyes as Spencer pushed the chairs in at the big dining set, and slowly made his way upstairs to the study. Hotch was puzzled by this. Their usual routine involved tv time after dinner. He glanced into the dark room, where the big leather sofa beckoned. Many fond memories lived there. Didn’t Reid want to watch tv tonight? Aaron hurried up the steps after Reid, ducking into the study behind him. 

“Sorry I didn’t warn you sooner that Haley’s parents were coming,” Hotch said, following Spencer around from a safe distance. Aaron had learned some time ago that a safe distance was always a good idea when Reid was particularly moody. Spencer walked over to the map of the United States, and gave a small sigh as he touched the pins in Seattle. 

“It’s okay,” Spencer lied with a depressed shrug. 

Aaron watched Spencer more carefully. Reid's moods had been up and down, more often down, and Hotch understood that completely, considering all that Reid was dealing with. But there were times when his frustration boiled over, and Hotch wanted to take Reid by the shoulders and shake him until his teeth rattled, or at least until he snapped out of this funk. 

“I think they liked you,” Hotch offered. Reid shook his head, staring down at his feet. “I'm sure they liked you,” Hotch reiterated more forcefully. 

“Hotch?” 

“Yes?” Aaron flew closer, taking hold of one of Reid’s elbows. 

“Can I ask you a serious question?” 

“Of course," Aaron responded, while thinking, 'Oh Lord, here it comes.'

“If you had misgivings. About me returning to the BAU. You would discuss them with me. Wouldn’t you? You know you could tell me. If you thought I was no longer up to my job.” 

Hotch snatched Reid's other elbow into his grip and turned him around to face him. Spencer cringed back from him, eyes falling, face screwed up with insecure fear. 

“I don’t have any misgivings,” Aaron said firmly and sternly. "I want you back- the sooner, the better." 

“But if you did have reservations, you would tell me? Right?” Reid asked. He lifted his big eyes and bored into Hotch’s soul. 

“I would tell you, and that’s a fact. End of story. I wouldn’t pussyfoot around,” Hotch assured him. 

“Thanks,” Reid replied. Hotch loosened his grip, petted Reid’s arms, and stroked one finger tenderly across his chin. 

“The lunch with Strauss didn’t go well, did it? I didn’t want to pressure you to talk, but you haven't said one word about it. Did she express reservations about letting you return to the BAU? Is that where this is all coming from?” 

“She doesn’t want me back,” Spencer stated plainly. "She was abundantly clear."

“In the BAU?” 

“She told me to take a year off. To think about if I even wanted to return. She offered several alternatives. Besides the BAU. Even hinted that I shouldn't return. To the FBI at all.” 

“Cozy desk jobs? I did warn you she might.” 

“Strauss means to bury me, Hotch.” 

“Reid, I won’t let her do that to you. I want you back. I need you back,” Hotch insisted. 

“You may not have. A choice in the matter,” Reid reminded him gently. 

“I should have known it didn’t go well. You've been moping around here since Thursday. When Strauss came back to the office after meeting with you, she was hissing and spitting at everyone in sight. She screamed at Anderson about the shocking state of his desk, and slammed the door to her office hard enough to break one of the hinges. Maintenance had to come take her door off to get her out of her office. She was late for her next appointment. Not a happy camper. What did you say to her?” Hotch wondered. 

It was a subtle dig, and Reid had been expecting it, the assumption on Hotch's part that Spencer must have said or done something that had set Strauss off. Spencer’s heart fell down into his stomach, and took his shoulders downward with it. He wasn’t surprised, but he was wounded. 

“I refused the alternate department positions,” Spencer murmured. 

“Is that it?” 

“No.”

“What else did you say?” 

“I accused her of having an unprofessional bias against me. Based on my sexual orientation.” 

“What?” Hotch stammered. “But she….she’s never made any such… remarks to me. Are you....sure?” 

“Of course she wouldn’t. Not to you," Reid hissed. 

“But why would she single you out?” 

“Because you’re not gay.” 

“I’m as bisexual as you are,” Hotch laughed. 

“No. No, you aren't. That's not the front you present. You could not be any more typically heterosexual. If you carried a club and wore fur! She doesn't see us the same. No one does. You’re very masculine. I’m not. Everyone views me differently than they view you.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Hotch frowned. “You’re imagining things.”

“You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed. The glaring discrepancy. In the way people react to you. And the way they react to me,” Reid snorted derisively.

“No, I haven’t,” Hotch denied. But he had. Oh, he had. That was the truth of it. 

“People see us together. And they think I converted you, or whatever,” Reid whispered, lowering his voice, lowering his entire body. Every inch of his person was filled with unbearable shame. 

"That's utter bullshit, and you know it!” Hotch snapped. 

“When it was clear I wasn’t going to quietly acquiesce to her demands. Strauss accused me of being sexually involved with you.”

“Of course we're sexually involved. We're married!” Aaron exclaimed in exasperation.

“You don’t understand. She accused me of being sexually involved with you. From the moment I started in the BAU,” Reid amended. Hotch caught his breath. 

“Surely not,” he dismissed. “You must have misunderstood.”

“I did not misunderstand. She was very clear. She doesn't think I can do my job. She thinks your evaluations were all biased in my favor. Because we've been fucking from Day One. That you have kept me around. Because I have granted you sexual favors. She accused me of sleeping with Gideon too. She wants to cast doubt on every. Last job performance evaluation I have ever had. She suggested in no uncertain terms. That I had slept my way into my job. Aaron, why are you laughing? This is very serious.”

“Oh, Spencer,” Hotch soothed as he grinned. “Baby, there is not a single person in the Bureau who would ever believe you used sexual favors to gain your position in the BAU. I don’t care what Strauss says to them. You have nothing to worry about. What?” 

Reid pushed Hotch to arms' length and glared furiously at him. When Hotch realized how what he said had sounded, and understood how Reid might be misconstruing his words, Aaron blanched chalk-white. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Hotch amended quickly. Reid was so livid that he was shaking. “Reid…..” Aaron pleaded. 

“It’s bad enough that someone on the team. Has been going behind your back. Telling Strauss that I’m an emotional wreck. That I can’t take the pressure of the job. Telling her I shouldn’t be allowed to return. Quote-unquote, 'for my own good'. Because I might get myself hurt. Or I might jeopardize the team. Or I might snap and shoot everyone. I don’t need you making light of the fact. That Strauss made a very serious accusation. Against my integrity. In front of other federal agents.”

“I’m not making light! You’re being overly-sensitive! No one on the team is talking behind your back!” 

“Hotch, should anyone take Strauss’s accusations at face value. It would jeopardize my future in the Bureau. If people believe her. I might not be allowed back in my job. Or any other job. I don’t need you making fun of me. At a time like this!” 

“Reid, I’m not making fun of you! Strauss’s accusations are ridiculous, and you’re being defensive for no reason!”

"I'm being defensive because my job is on the line!" Reid shouted. He seethed for a breath or two, and then stopped cold. He bit his mouth closed and turned away. "I’m going to bed,” Spencer muttered, hobbling for the door. 

“Reid!” Hotch shouted. In a final display of defiance and irritation, Spencer flipped him the bird on the way out of the study.


End file.
